Split Second
by Nyah
Summary: Every great mistake has a halfway moment, a split second when it can be recalled and perhaps remedied." --Pearl S. Buck Godric, Eric, Sookie. A second splits. A vampire dies, a vampire rises.


**Disclaimer:** The characters etc are property of Charlaine, Alan Ball, and everyone else legally entitled to say "mine." I am not any of these people.

**Note:** Written for the episode AU challenge on LJ's tru_godric. He challenge was to make one of all Godric episode(s) AU in some way and to use one of the lsited quotes for inspiration. My quote:

"Every great mistake has a halfway moment, a split second when it can be recalled and perhaps remedied." --Pearl S. Buck

**Split Seconds**

{2012}

_When I was turned a few years back, a lot of weird things happened (weird in addition to the weird of a sudden sunlight allergy and severe cravings for RBCs). One of those weird things was that I got interested in science. If being brought back from the dead doesn't interest you in how stuff works, I don't know what will. _

_And that's one of the kickers. I guess I always thought that when I died, Jesus would be waiting with a nice, thick tome titled, _The Answers to All Your Questions. _But if Jesus was there with the book in the time between the second I died and the second I woke up again, I must not have gotten past the dedication page. _

_I woke up seriously hungry, seriously pissed off, and seriously in need of some answers. Who am I? Why am I here? What is my purpose? These niggling queries don't go away just because you up and die. In fact, dying seems to be the equivalent of inviting them in for tea._

_I was too young a vamp to really buy into all the mythology my kind been spouting for centuries. I couldn't see the sense yet in shutting up and believing in my own magic. So I started reading... science articles, magazines, journals. _

_I learned a lot. _

_In one article I learned that if you split an atom in half and put as many miles, as much space, as you like between the halves, the two parts will still move in accordance with each other. The electrons will maintain their opposite spins. The atom won't notice the distance. _

_In another article I learned about the most advanced atomic clock on Earth.__ It__ drops a second every 20 million years. One second. In twenty million years. One. Second. _

_One._

_Sec-_

{Before We Started Counting}

The warrior before him is a holocaust. That word will come to mean so much more in the years to come. It will stand for genocide and slaughter and secrecy. But it has yet to pick up those heavy burdens of connotation. For now it holds only its own definition. The warrior is part of that definition. He is to be a burnt offering.

But while the gods might find the stench of burning flesh and melting fat, of death, pleasing, all Godric asks for is the thing the warrior loves most. "Life."

"Life."

The warrior accepts the lie gratefully and Godric's teeth close on his neck. Mud and oil slide up the length of Godric's fangs. Such a short distance it is between life and its opposite. Which is not death. His fangs pierce the skin and in the first flush he remembers plums, ripe to bursting.

The warrior's skin shivers, fevered, barely containing the life within. Godric gladly relieves it of the pressure. He calms the frantic pulse, gives the valiant heart a well-deserved rest. He drains out right and wrong, draws forth fear, and loss, and finally, death.

Godric surveys his work. The warrior lies motionless on the bier. An offering that won't be burnt. From him, Godric has drained what life is, in its place he'll put what life should be.

{2009}

Something is wrong. His Maker is unmaking himself.

There is magic running down his face. "I'll stay with him. As long as it takes." The human girl takes his hand for a moment before his feet take him away.

In his room he expects to feel his flesh catch fire. But Godric never wanted burnt offerings. He never was Death.

Something falls in, collapses, curls up tight inside him. It is an atom, a seed, a star about to be reborn. His back bends. He wraps around it, pinned between an end and a beginning.

"Eric."

The human enters and he knows. "Godric is gone."

Magic is running down his face. Life.

She considers. Once. Twice. She bares her neck with purpose not surrender, she accepts the gift. Life.

Her veins are full of sap but she smells of fire. He pulls hard at the essence of her. He never wanted a burnt offering.

She tastes the color of rain and the sound of soil. Emptied she is not empty. She is fertile ground. She has the right temperament for a vampire. There is space in her for Godric to grow. Not what he was but what he wanted to be.

_-ond._

_I wonder what happens if you split a second like an atom. Do the two halves recognize each other, even across time? Which half is cause and which is effect? Which one finishes the sentence the other began? _

_Time, I've come to realize, is every vampire's obsession. And why not? It's our consolation prize. Time stands behind door number two and we can't believe our eyes. _

_Behind door number one was life. _

_I wonder what happens to a dropped second. One out of twenty million years._

_Where does it go?_

_Is it lonely?_

_Does it bounce? _


End file.
